


Getting Head

by Caius



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Blow Job from a disembodied head, Humiliation kink, M/M, Non-kinky insults, Sentinel is not good at saying ‘yes’ much less ‘please’ even if he means both of those things, Somewhere there is a very confused Henry Masterson, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, dubious continuity with Return of the Headmaster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 06:50:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6743878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caius/pseuds/Caius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Optimus puts Sentinel's disembodied head to good use, and Sentinel loves it. </p><p>Also, lots of flashbacks of kinky funtimes with Elita back in the day.</p><p>For anonymous on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting Head

“Shut _up_.” Without thinking about it, Optimus shoved his hand over Sentinel’s mouth. 

To be fair, Sentinel’s mouth was pretty close to his hand already. He was carrying the bot’s head around and doing him the _favor_ of trying to get his body back before the Magnus noticed. 

Optimus expected to be bitten. He didn’t expect to be _licked_. He hadn’t felt Sentinel’s tongue on him since – well, since Archa Seven.

It still made his engine rev, though. Sentinel used to be _good_ with his mouth. He used to suck Elita’s spike pretty much every chance they got, and he was pretty good at licking valve, too. And if the rumors about him and the Magnus were true, he’d been keeping in practice.

He stared down at Sentinel, and carefully slid a finger into his mouth. He felt Sentinel whimper and suck it for just a second before he opened his mouth again. “Don’t think I’m sucking off some organic-loving repairbot scrub, I don’t even want to think about where you’ve been putting your spike or–your hands!” Sentinel’s tongue flicked over his lips, though, and his optics glanced down into Optimus’ lap with an expression that Optimus hadn’t seen in a long, long time.

Optimus sighed. Sentinel _looked_ at him like that, but he still couldn’t get through a simple ‘I don’t want to suck your spike’ without insulting him and this entire planet. “Of course not. I’ll just bring you to the Magnus, since no other spike would be good enough.”

“WHO TOLD YOU THAT!” Sentinel bellowed. “Was it Jazz? I never! I got my position fair and square! I _deserve_ to be first Prime! Who is spreading these rumors?”

Optimus shoved his hand over Sentinel’s mouth again. “Shut up. Do you _actually_ want the Magnus to see you like this?” Optimus isn’t sure why _he_ cares. Except that he’s reminded of how nice it was to have Sentinel’s mouth on him.

(And to hold Sentinel still while Elita used it. But _that’s_ not going to happen. Not unless Elita finds a “cure” or Sentinel gets over his organic phobia.)

Sentinel actually shut up for a moment and slid his tongue seductively over Optimus’ hand. “Is this your price, then? For keeping it a secret?”

Optimus yanks his hand away from Sentinel’s mouth, disgusted. “I wouldn’t do that! Not even to you!”

Sentinel just looks hurt for a moment, and Optimus hates that he wants to hug him and make it better. But then he starts talking again. “What, my mouth isn’t good enough for you anymore? You’ve been putting your spike into _organics_? Taking _tentacles_ up your valve?” 

“…I don’t think the humans even _have_ tentacles,” said Optimus. “And, no. The last _being_ to suck my spike or touch my valve was you.” 

“Really?” Sentinel actually looks _flattered_ for a moment, and then he laughs. “You can’t even get your _repair crew_ to get you off. A bunch of washouts and a ninjabot and Optimus can’t even get his spike sucked.”

“Shut _up_!” Optimus growled at him. Insulting _him_ was one thing, but he was _not_ going to sit here and listen to Sentinel insult his team. 

“Make me,” Sentinel said, and his lips parted, just a little, waiting for him. Optimus was suddenly very, very aware of how long it _had_ been, and how uncomfortable his spike panel was becoming.

Optimus couldn’t believe he was considering this. He couldn’t believe Sentinel was _asking_ for this. “You _want_ to suck my spike?”

Sentinel licked his lips, and also Optimus’ fingers, which were a lot closer to Sentinel’s mouth than Optimus realized. “ _Your_ spike? The spike of a _washout_ and a _flunky_? That’s probably rusted over from disuse?”

Optimus shoved three finger into Sentinel’s mouth just to shut him _up_ , and from Sentinel’s reaction – he did, indeed, want to suck exactly that spike. Optimus shuddered as Sentinel’s tongue worked over the fingers, rubbing over and between them, encouraging them to press in deeper. If Sentinel had had his whole body, Optimus knew, he would be leaning forward and probably have his hand on Optimus’ wrist, pulling the fingers deep inside.

Elita had had him try to get her off just by sucking her fingers, once. It hadn’t worked, because none of the three of them had been able to keep their free hands off their equipment for long enough.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Optimus said, unsteadily. His panel had popped open at some point during Sentinel’s little demonstration, so all he has to do is take Sentinel’s head off his hand and put it on his spike.

“You don’t _deserve_ this, you scrub–!” Sentinel said as soon as Optimus pulled his fingers out, but he didn’t say no, and he licked his lips and opened his mouth when Optimus positioned him over his spike.

Optimus lowered him slowly. It felt so _good_ to have a warm mouth on his spike again, even if it was Sentinel’s mouth. And Sentinel was as eager for it as Optimus remembered.

Sentinel moaned lightly around the spike, working his tongue around whatever he could reach, and when the tip of Optimus’ spike nudged against his intake, he swallowed eagerly against it, encouraging Optimus to push further.

“You _like_ this rusted-over Academy washout spike, don’t you?” Optimus said as he pulled Sentinel back up again just a little, and he was unprepared for the way Sentinel moaned even louder at the words.

(He remembered it, though, the way Elita had sometimes insulted Sentinel in the berth. Optimus had never been quite comfortable with it, but Sentinel never seemed to mind.)

He pulled Sentinel’s head back down, pushing past the end of his mouth this time, sliding gently into his intake. He had to help Sentinel straighten his neck by hand to get in deeper, and that seemed to make Sentinel moan even more, his optics dim with pleasure as he focused everything on the spike, licking everything he could reach and flexing his intake as best he could in his current state.

He finally worked Sentinel’s head all the way down and – to his surprise – as Sentinel’s lips pressed against his pelvic plating, the tip of his spike suddenly went cold.

He was _out the other end_. Sentinel’s moan of bliss at taking the whole thing turned into a squawk of indignation as he realized he _physically couldn’t_.

Optimus almost giggled, but he restrained himself. Humiliation fetish or not, he wasn’t sure laughing at Sentinel with his spike in the bot’s mouth was a good idea. He pet Sentinel’s helm patronizingly, instead. “It’s okay. You can take most of it. You’re such a good spikesucker, Sentinel. Feel so good on me.” Optimus had always been more inclined to praise the bots he ‘faced with than to insult them, even if Sentinel had preferred it the other way.

He pulled Sentinel’s head up a bit and and started rocking him up and down steadily, building his pleasure efficiently. Sentinel goes back to moaning and licking and swallowing, to all appearances completely enjoying being moved about like a spiketoy.

Maybe he should tell Sentinel that. It might be a thing that would turn them both on. “You’re such a good little spiketoy, Sentinel,” Optimus tries, and when Sentinel moans for him, he moves the head a little faster and adds, “You feel so good when I use you!” There’s a very slight sparkle of energy as Sentinel sucks him as hard as he can, and Optimus _knows_ his friend used to be able to get off just from this, and he wonders for a moment what’s happening to Sentinel’s body.

He overloads to a memory of Sentinel arching and spilling over his academy berth, so beautiful in pleasure.

He feels Sentinel trying to swallow his transfluid, and watches it spurt out the hole at the back of Sentinel’s neck.

Optimus can’t help himself. He bursts into laughter.

Sentinel growls and Optimus just barely manages to get him off his spike before he bites down.

“I would _never_ suck the spike of a washout like you,” Sentinel said, his voice still hoarse with spikesucking and the aftermath of his overload.

Optimus sighs. “I don’t suppose I can expect any help cleaning the _floor_ before we pretend this never happened.”

It’s a lot easier to ignore Sentinel’s insults after a good overload, though. Especially the way Sentinel keeps licking his lips as he talks. 

He wonders if Sentinel will manage to actually invite him to his quarters later.

He wonders if he’ll say yes.


End file.
